I bet you thought I forgot about drawing Six the Prowler with Revenant, huh? (Six being a prowler from my fanfiction that has gone from a one-off to a full sized novel.)
I didn’t.
It just took me like a week because I’m not a professional artist or anything.
See who’s fault this is below the break:
@therevenantspeaks This is your doing! I got the receipts!!
So this is more like the moment AFTER he uses that voiceline, but I figured you’d enjoy it anyway!
He felt arms snake around his waist as he shaved, your face nuzzling into his back as he ran the sharp blade over his skin, collecting the shaving cream that smelled of vanilla and bourbon. His white shirt was still a little damp from his shower and his hair was still a mess from towel drying it. Gentle fingers crawled beneath his shirt and rubbed his sensitive skin, making him sigh with content.
He never thought he could be happy like this; never thought he could find something to live for other than his brutal and unforgiving job… well, for his targets anyway. He always imagined that he would be alone, hitting up call girls for his amusement, always believing that he would never be able to find someone he could truly trust to stay with him and understand the complications of dating a hitman. You were the jackpot, the one person to hold him so close to your heart no matter how sadistic and cruel he acted, because you saw right through his bullshit. Your precious doe eyes stared deep into his own and just tore right through any walls he tried to put up, seeing how miserable he really was through the façade.
You gave him the touch he so desperately craved, gave him the affection and praise that he had always desired from his own non-existent family, and made him realize how much he really enjoyed being alive. A purpose. It was almost like a dream, you standing here with him, holding him close. It was almost motherly how you loved him, making sure he was taken care of physically, mentally, and emotionally. Any crack in his defenses, you jammed right through and supported him.
His depression setting in? You were there to make him lunch and be sure the usually spotless apartment was perfection. He was stunned when you had popped popcorn, mixed some drinks, and put on a movie on the screen above his bed, curling up to him and laughing like a fool at all the “funny” parts.
Part of him wanted to really feel the stoicism that he radiated while around everyone, even you, but he simply couldn’t- the fluttering in his chest consuming him when you looked up at him with such wonder.
“You have to go so soon? It seems like you just got back.”
You were upset. He couldn’t blame you. Hitmen don’t always get to take long ass vacations when they’re willing do to the worst of the worst and that’s what he did. He scraped up the jobs that no one else had the stomach for. Could he complain? He got paid very, very well and he was very, very good at it. He derived some sick satisfaction from witnessing the agony and fear written all over his hits’ faces as they died, whether it be brandishing their loved ones before them or cutting them up while they were still alive and screamin.’ Nothing was more fun than that. Getting off track… yeah. He had to leave last minute a lot. All he had to do was give you that one look, the one that made you look down at the floor and sigh in defeat.
The one that made his heart sink like a rock to the bottom of the ocean.
“When will you be back?”
He patted his face with the aftershave that matched the scent of the shaving cream, washing his hands one last time before turning to face you, not being able to look up into your face from the mirror. He gripped the sink for only a moment, letting out a sigh and facing your sadness. Calloused thumbs ran over the backs of your soft hands, trying his best to let you know how he felt about leaving without actually saying it.
“Don’t know. Shouldn’t take too long if I decide not to play with my food.” Wink. Yeah, you loved that, always falling for his charm. All he had to do was sway his hips, give you that handsome smirk, and speak in that smooth, seductive voice and he had you wrapped around his thumb.
He almost lost it when he watched you try to keep pouting through the giggles you tried to hold back. His heart felt strangled in his chest as he kept fighting with his desire to wrap you in his arms and tell you just how much he fucking loved you, how much he wanted to keep you in his life forever.
Fuck, he wished he could tell you that. He knew he could never say that, though, not while this was his profession.
“Stop being so cute and finish getting ready. The quicker you get out of here, the quicker you’ll come back. Let me know when you’re about done so I know whether or not to make dinner.”
He decided not to answer you and instead, pull of his white undershirt. You couldn’t bitch if you couldn’t talk. He could hear you hold your breath behind him, prompting him to smirk over his shoulder at you.
“I’m not going to let you leave if you keep that up, mister. Its not polite to tease and leave me hanging.”
Shame he’s not a very polite person, he thought as he dipped his thumbs into his grey sweat pants, watching your gaze wander lower.
“You’re right about that, baby, but I don’t have time for another shower.”
He tuned back around to slip on his black, turtleneck tank top, knowing that you had to be salivating over him. After all, you had told him how much you liked when he wore the turtlenecks.
Wrote this a while back ago. Was inspired by a comic I saw on Twitter. It might sound familiar to you guys.
Ps I've got something stewing in the pot. I believe it will make a handful of people happy. Hopefully 😃
He waited on the rooftop, eyes trained on the target through his scope. They talked and laughed like it was just any old normal day.
As if.
That’s how it ends. Its quick and comes out of nowhere. At any moment you could drop and that’s the end of it. He sees it so often that he’s become numb to it, the questions of his own mortality. He’s no different than his targets and he knows that. One wrong move is all it would take to get him shut behind bars or strapped to a table to be sentenced to death. Well then, it was a good thing he was too good at what he did.
His finger on the trigger, his breathing slowed.
All it takes… a click and a bang,
His head flew back, but he bounced, his head hitting the table, splashing blood all over his girl.
“Sorry, pal. Had to be this way. Nothin’ personal.”
He got up from where he was perched and turned to see his favorite partner.
They were about his age, very talented with knives, and also had this weird ability to Fade. It was a strange way to travel, but it made getting up to high places all the more easier. Escaping was also a breeze since he could take his shot and then be dragged away to a different rooftop.
“Let’s go.”
They motioned him on as he pulled away the red scarf from around his head, leaving it loose around his neck, his blonde hair moving gently in the wind. They were holding out their hand for him to take it.
That was how they traveled together, hand in hand like some kind of lame fairy tale, but instead there’s a wave of adrenaline like riding on a roller coaster. Touching their hand always led to a very exciting high.
He grabbed their hand with a soft clap and then felt himself become mist. It was always the strangest feeling, seeing his body break down to dust, but there was no pain. His body just melted away into clouds of black and moved with insane speed to the other rooftop. The instant they landed, he was human again and the black smoke drifted away from their feet.
“Never gets old. Where’s the extraction point?”
They looked up to the sky and then somewhere to their left.
“They should be over that way. Not too much farther. Maybe… three more buildings. Are you going to be alright or are you feeling a little queasy?”
He wasn’t nauseous just yet. That usually only happened if he had to do with five times in succession to each other. No breaks in between. It was horrible, felt like the worst hangover,
“I’m fine. Lets just go already. Small breaks between.”
They nodded, “Alright, let’s move.”
They jumped through again, waited a moment and then jumped twice more, his stomach twisting and his head on the precipice of spinning.
“I told you a moment on between.”
They had simply shrugged, “I had to jump two times to make it to the building, otherwise we’d be roadkill right now.”
He still scoffed and rolled eyes before turning his attention to the skies. Their dropship would arrive soon and take them back to the syndicate where he would receive payment and she would return to a debriefing.
It was nice, not having to deal with the extra work.
“So, why do you wanna train under me?”
Small talk. Normally, he preferred the quiet after a kill, but their silence was too awkward, considering that usually they are fairly talkative. He couldn’t fathom why they would be acting so strange, especially since nothing out of the ordinary happened.
They had acknowledged him, lifting their head up before waving a hand his way, as if to say “don’t worry about it.” News flash. He’s going to worry about it whether they like it or not.
“Come on. Lets hear it.”
He sat down on the edge of the building, eyeing how far down of a drop it was and boy was it a long fall. It was gorgeous though. Almost made you forget how dangerous it was to be up so high, the night sky bright with the advertisement lights, shimmering off of the glass of the many surrounding sky scrapers. He propped up his hands on his rifle, leaning over to wait for their answer.
“You are the greatest assassin in the syndicate.”
He rolled his eyes and leaned closer.
“Hasn’t changed the number of people lining up for my lessons. Facts. People don’t like me.”
He watched you like a hawk, you had to crack at some point. After all, everyone was aware of what a “massive prick” he was and if that was the case, they would’ve had to find out. They couldn’t be so desperate.
“I need to get stronger and you are the way to do it. Your skill in the art of the kill is unmatched. I need to know.”
They moved to sit beside him.
Odd. He’d never seen a pup like them with balls made of steel. No one in the syndicate would have talked to him like that. He couldn’t lie, though.
He liked it.
“Why did you become an assassin?”
Such personal questions, already? Must have been really trying to get under his skin. Didn’t matter, though. He didn’t care what people knew, only that they respected him.
“The coin was good.”
He leaned his head back just a little to look up at the clouds forming in the black sky.
“I wasn’t all that book smart, but was decent with math,” he exclaimed loudly, patting his rifle, “just decent enough to calculate where this shot’s gonna land.”
They laughed and it was the most contagious thing he had ever heard. He had to cover his mouth to stifle the chuckle that shook through him.
“That’s a fair reason. I’ve never been good at math, its why I cant use one of those.”
He looked at his communicator. Seeing that the dropship had another five more minutes to get there. Damn. He would have loved to have spent a little more time with them, but the longer they waited out here, the more likely their chance of getting caught was. He could see them, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He wondered what they were really thinking. There wasn’t anyway they just came out here to learn from him because he was the best, no. Their disposition told him otherwise.
So, now that Apex is cross platform, you guys can totally play some games with me! My internet might be a little wonky and I'm terrible at the game, but I'm open to a good time! Just send me a dm here and I'll send you my gamer tag because I'm a loser on XBOX ONE
